


Don't Tell Coran

by Brewrites



Series: Hidge Week 2017 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dinner, F/M, More Like Destruction, they're just cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-03 22:39:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10976823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brewrites/pseuds/Brewrites
Summary: Hidge Week 2017. Prompt is Dinner. Pidge wants to do something nice for Hunk and it backfires.





	Don't Tell Coran

Stupid Lance! The kitchen on the ship was on fire and it was all his fault. 

He had cornered her when they had returned from the beach planet with the shell and thankfully when Hunk was out of earshot and wanted all the details of the planet. 

Stupid Lance had also somehow figured out about her affinity for Hunk and she hadn't even written about it in her journal. She hadn't even spoken it aloud, and yet he had known. 

“If you really want to impress him,” Lance had said, “You should make him dinner.” 

That was how the kitchen ended up on fire. She had tried to read the Altean on the equivalent of MREs and she was sure it had said boil it rather than bake it in the fancy oven, but it had caught on fire instead. 

And set off alarms throughout the entire castle. 

She instantly hopped up on the counter and began trying to fan the thick black smoke from the sensor above the the center island with one of the trays, but it wasn't doing much for the smoke. 

“Come on, come on,” she groaned, waving the tray harder, hoping for the alarm to cease before anyone else entered, or worse. 

Instead of the alarm shutting off, it continued. Followed by the overhead sprinklers, with some kind of iridescent oily fluid, kicking on and drenching her in an instant. 

“Pidge?” Hunk’s voice came from the doorway. 

Quiznack!

Before she could even answer, he was there, in the thick of it, tending to the black smoke spewing from the pot and simultaneously fanning the smoke away from the sensor, the iridescent liquid sliding down his skin in the worst ways. 

Finally, after several tense minutes, the sensor clicked off and the loud siren throughout the entire castle, she was sure, ceased. She stared at Hunk, covered in the iridescent oily fluid, the drops dripping down his cheeks and down his neck, past his collarbones to his bare chest. She was sure she was staring like an idiot, the tray still above her head like a mad woman, the oily liquid sticking to her sun soaked skin uncomfortably. 

She was sure she looked absolutely insane, but the way Hunk smiled, made it all worth it. 

“If you were hungry, you could have just asked,” He said gently between rounds of chuckles. “I would have made you a snack.” 

She couldn't help the sheepish smile that appeared. “You cook for us all the time,” she said. “I wanted to do something nice for you.” 

He laughed. “It was a nice thought, but Coran won't be very happy you burned his favorite pair of socks.”

“Socks?!” She asked. “What were they doing in the kitchen?!” She asked, brushing her hair out of her eyes. He had to be joking, right?

“Weird, right?” He answered. Then as he surveyed the damage she could feel her cheeks on fire. “What do you say I hide the evidence, you go clean up, and we start with dessert first?” 

She nodded. Dinner had been a disaster. 

“You think you could handle scooping ice cream?” He asked. 

“We have ice cream?!” She asked.


End file.
